


Defenders Of Hope

by MysticAmyCat101



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Danganronpa AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticAmyCat101/pseuds/MysticAmyCat101
Summary: Hope and Despair.Sixteen students trapped in a school.To graduate means to get away with murder.Faced with such dire circumstances, can anyone be trusted? Can even one's own memories be trusted?And can hope ever overcome despair?





	Defenders Of Hope

   Garrison Academy...He was here…

He made it….He actually made it…

Large arch....Mullet...White hair...glasses...Blood on his hands…

Darkness.

 

Lance’s head snaps up and he grabs onto the table before him as the chair he’s seated upon teeters dangerously on its hind legs, nearly toppling over at his sudden movement. He feels hot and his skin is slicked with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead as he brushes it back with a grimace. Those images...They’re racing through his head but they feel...fainter? As if they’re slowly stepping further and further away the closer he gets to remembering them. He runs a hand over his face and lets his hand linger over his eyes for a moment before lowering it to peer at the mysterious room he’d woken in.

A classroom. With a whiteboard and a good number of desks and weird metal plates on the wall to his left. But it’s not one that he recognizes. He scans the room until his eyes land on a card propped on the desk up front, the one that would be considered the teacher’s desk should there actually be one in the room. Slowly pushing himself out of the chair, he winces as aches begin radiating from almost every joint in his body. How long had he been sitting there? And why was he sitting there in the first place? This card better have some answers.

To his disappointment, it does not. It merely has a time and a location written within it, alongside a crude drawing of some weird caterpillar. 8:30 am. The gym. He has no idea what time it is, there’s no clock in the room and his phone has played a vanishing act. And he doesn’t even know where the gym even is. But...going there might provide answers. It’s the best bet he’s got. Stuffing the otherwise plain card into his pocket, he leaves the classroom. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t get too lost…

  
  


Lance swears it takes him ten minutes to finally locate the gym. He’s more than a little bit irritated with himself when he realizes he’d passed the doors for it a good five times in his search, having taken no time to even try and read the clearly printed labels upon the door that read “GYM” in big, block letters. He shoves his hand against it but pauses upon hearing lowered voices. They’re just beyond the door. And there’s a lot of them. He gulps, praying to god that he’s not about to be ambushed as he slowly pushes the door wide open. 

The voices inside fade into silence as he enters and what feels like a million eyes land upon him. Doing his best to remain calm, he steps inside and let’s the door swing shut behind him, eye’s flicking nervously to-and-fro at the numerous people within. They return his gaze, some confused, others curious, and a few indifferent. They all look his age. Well, he supposes that makes sense. From what he’s seen of the building so far, he’s in a school. And if his memory serves him right, he’s not in any old school. He’s in Garrison Academy, a prestigious school for Ultimates: people who were extremely talented in a certain manner. He himself is an Ultimate, though his title is one he doesn’t like to look at for long.

As he stands there, the eyes begin drifting elsewhere; perhaps bored by his presence or feeling safe enough to look away once it was apparent he was no threat. However, someone approaches him and Lance stiffens at first, but relaxes when he sees the girls calming smile. She’s...rather pretty.Silky white hair, flawless dark skin, and shining blue eyes with a hint of purple at just the right angles. Her outfit was also something to behold. A long, flowing white and blue dress with golden bangles that hung from her wrists and clinked together as she moved. She looked like a princess…And as she reaches him and proceeds to talk, she sounds like one too-

“Greetings! I’m Allura Juniberry! Are you the sixteenth student we’ve all been waiting for?”

“Six--Sixteenth student?” Lance repeats, his calm slowly fading into confusion.

“Yes! One of the other students here, Lotor, said that there was supposed to be sixteen students accepted into the Garrison. There’s only been fifteen in here for the past ten minutes but with your arrival, there is now 16,” she explains. Lance gives a slight nod of understanding, despite his mind actually racing to catch up with the information. That’s...right. He remembers now. There was supposed to be 16 new students in total. He was one of the 16 but he never bothered to visit the schools website to see who the others may be.

“Lotor thinks-” Allura continues, “-That once everyone has arrived, we’ll finally be told why we all woke up here. And why we needed to come to the gymnasium.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Lance mutters, peering over Allura’s shoulder at the other students. He wonders which one is Lotor. And if he’s more attractive than Lance...And if Allura likes him...He startles when he realizes he’s unintentionally holding the gaze of another. Piercing purple eyes that belong to one mullet-headed weirdo. The hair strikes an unfamiliar cord with Lance, one he can’t directly identify. He swears he’s seen that mullet before…

 

But before Lance could delve into the feeling any further, the sound of hissing erupts from the front of the gym, atop its stage. Everyone’s gaze snapped to the slowly rising podium, smoke pouring out from the opening around it and creating a fine mist around the area that made a chill run down Lance’s spine. The podium finally came to a stop and Lance’s eyes briefly took note of the Garrison Academy’s logo upon it before snapping back to it’s top. Something was...standing on it. Something really...long and...multi-armed. Lance realizes it’s the same weird caterpillar thing that had been drawn upon the card he received. Multiple arms, a weird greenish-blue hue, large eyes, and is that a beak or his nose..?   
  


“The fuck is that?” someone cries out and a chorus of panicked rambles and shout’s followed after it, as if the mute button that had been upon them had been lifted.

“Now, that’s a rude way to greet your headmaster!”

“Headmaster?” Lance hears Allura repeat, risking a glance at her to see a look of confusion etched upon her face. He returns his eyes to the supposed headmaster as it clears its throat.

“Why yes! Your headmaster, Slav! I’m the owner of this prestigious school! And I’m here to greet all you new students! And of course, inform you of your current circumstances,” he says, crossing its many arms as it gazes upon them with disdainful eyes,”Now, make no mistake--you few students, so full of potential, represent the hope of the world. And to protect such splendid hope...you will all live a communal life together solely within the confines of this school. Everyone will live in harmony together, and adhere to the rules and regulations of the school. I am no liar, of that I can be 100% sure. No matter how much you may yell and scream for help...help will not come. So with all of that in mind, feel free to live out your life here with reckless abandon!" 

“Rest--What do you mean the rest of our life?” another female asks, a blonde dressed in a crop top and baggy pants.

“It means what it means! You will all remain in this school until it’s time for the earth to reclaim you!”

The panic and noise in the room rises and Slav lets out a frustrated cry. “Bunch of crybabies you all are. And I haven’t even reached the most important part yet! The part that’ll  _ really _ give you something to cry over! For you see, there is a way to leave this school without being gray and fragile. To leave, you have to graduate!”

“And how exactly do we do that?” someone asks, a richly accented voice that holds a deep level of authority. It’s so much louder than the others that it causes them all to quiet down, though part of it may have been out of eagerness and nerves to hear the creature’s answer.

Slav’s beak nose thing curves at the bottom, as if smiling.

“In order to graduate Garrison Academy, you must kill someone!”


End file.
